


death doesn't always come running when you call

by likewinning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Earth-3, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 23:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17476688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: "That's clever," Richard says. "You know, if you have a death wish."Sequel of sorts toand the river rises like a barn on fire.





	death doesn't always come running when you call

**Author's Note:**

> Cleaning out my gdocs! Probably there was supposed to be actual porn to this, but I think it holds up anyway.

Owlman lets him work on his own sometimes. Not for the big things - not for busting up gangs who don't have Gotham clearance, not for meet-ups with the so-called Gotham cops, but he lets Richard _patrol_ sometimes.

The uniform fits perfectly. Better even than the one Richard wore in the circus, the one his mom stitched up every few months because he kept _growing_ and there wasn't money to keep making new ones. Thomas doesn't have that problem.

And in the new uniform, Richard flies, just like he used to.

Well - not just. Not - Richard doesn't get an _audience_ , really, unless he's with Thomas, unless he's supposed to put on some distracting show. On his own, Richard is supposed to be stealthy, frightening - deadly.

And he is, usually.

Usually.

He spots the kid half a block away. Richard's headed for where Thomas parked the car, over in Crime Alley. He's early, but it's been a slow night, and Thomas always rewards him if he waits _patiently_.

But the kid. The kid has a damn crowbar, and he's trying to take the wheels off the car - he already _took_ two of them, and he's working on a third.

Richard drops down on him, makes more noise than he _needs_ to just to see the kid jump.

"That's clever," Richard says. "You know, if you have a death wish."

The kid stands up, brandishing the crowbar like a weapon. He's a few inches shorter than Richard, maybe a few years younger. There's dirt on his cheek, probably from the tires, and his dark hair curls at his forehead like the angels Richard's seen in museums. He looks at Richard, and there's not a speck of fear in his eyes.

"What are _you_ supposed to be?" the kid asks, and Richard - it's not the first time anyone's asked that, but it's been a _while_. He's not unknown anymore. Everyone knows Owlman has a - partner.

But Richard grins, big and wide, like it doesn't bother him a bit. "I'm Talon," he says. "And you're going to put those tires right back where you found them."

The swing the kid takes with the crowbar is sudden, but Richard's reflexes are near perfect and he ducks, makes a grab for it - only for it to slip out of his gloves.

"Listen," Richard says. They're dodging around each other on the sidewalk, the kid circling like some lion cub trying to prove he's got claws. "I don't make a habit of beating up kids, okay? Just put everything back where you found it, and we're good."

"No," the kid says. He swings again, misses. "You got any idea what I'll get for tires like these?" He snorts. "'Course you don't, fancy boy. Gear like that, you probably got no idea what it's like to _be_ hungry."

And something in Richard - breaks. He's heard begging. From dealers and gangsters, from thieves older and meaner than this kid. He's never listened to any of it. But this kid -

Richard stills, and the kid uses it as an opening, gets Richard in the ribs before Richard pulls the crowbar out of his hands, bringing him closer. The kid's eyes are dark, dark blue, and he bares his teeth. "No," Richard says. "We're not gonna do this."

"No?" the kid asks. He's panting, cheeks flushed. Richard thinks maybe he's seen him before, down the street with the other boys and girls.

"No," Richard says. He grips the kid's face in his free hand, and the kid's eyes widen and he licks his lips. "What's your name, kid?" Richard asks.

"Jason," he says, and Richard knows it's the truth from the way he's trembling a little.

"You're very brave," Richard says. " _Dumb_ , but brave." And then Richard does something profoundly stupid himself. He drops the crowbar, reaches up and takes off his mask. Jason takes a deep breath. "I'm Richard," he says. "And I think you should meet my boss."

Jason squirms in his grip, but Richard holds him steady. "It's all right," he says. "It's nothing bad." And he starts to laugh, helpless and manic, and Jason stares and stares at him but when Richard lets him go, he doesn't run. They put the tires back and wait for Owlman.

 

*

 

"What's this, social hour?" Owlman asks about twenty minutes later. Richard's leaning against the hood of the car with Jason. His mask is back on and he's sharing one of his snacks with him. Hurting people is hungry work.

Richard grins, steps up to Owlman like everyone from here to Metropolis isn't terrified of him. Some say he's a ghost, a vampire, a demon. But Richard knows -

"Hey, boss," Richard says. He gestures back to Jason. "Found Jason here trying to lift our tires."

He can't see it through the cowl, but he's sure Owlman raises his eyebrows. "So, what? You decided to feed him?"

"I can go," Jason says behind them, and Richard and Owlman both say _No_ at the same time.

"No," Richard says again. He tips his head up toward Thomas, begs with eyes that Thomas can't see through his lenses. "He doesn't have anyone," Richard says. Jason's too close not to hear them, but he talks quietly anyway. "And he's not afraid of us."

Thomas looks at him a minute and then sighs. "I suppose you do need someone your own age around. All right." He nods. "Tie him up. Blindfold, too."

"Wait," Jason starts. "What -" But Richard's already on him, turning him around against the hood of the car and clipping metal cuffs on him. "Man, what the fu -"

"Ssh," Richard says in his ear. "It's okay. It's just so you don't tell anyone where we live, in case you change your mind." Jason aims a kick at his shin, and Richard laughs, pets his hair. "It's okay," he says again, taking the strip of cloth Thomas hands him. "Shut your eyes."

Jason stops struggling when Richard guides him into the car, half on Richard's lap because the car wasn't built with three people in mind. Thomas keeps telling him if he's good, he'll get him his own wheels, but Richard doesn't mind for now. The car smells like the two of them, like sex and leather and blood. 

Richard holds onto Jason the whole ride home, threading his fingers through his hair and feeling the thrum of Jason's heartbeat. Thomas won't talk about work right now _in case_ , so Richard turns the radio on and sings along to it in Jason's ear.

By the end, Jason's singing with him.

 

*

 

Jason forgets to breathe for a minute when Talon takes the blindfold off. He's stayed calm the whole time - the drive here, the half hour he spent with Talon, even meeting _Owlman_ , but. This place is. This -

"It looks crazy, right?" Talon asks. He's holding Jason's hand like they're _buddies_ , guiding Jason around to look at all the computers and weapons and exercise equipment and fucking _trophies_ , and Jason's dizzy with it.

"Yeah," Jason says. Owlman's at the computer. He's not looking at them, but Jason can feel him watching anyway, keeps expecting his head to turn around like a giant version of his namesake. Jason doesn't know what he's doing here. He -

"You want some snacks?" Talon asks. He bounces over to a small table, where there's a tray of cheese and crackers and drinks. "Alfred always leaves us something to eat after."

"Alfred?" Jason asks. He eats quickly; it could be a while before he gets to again.

"Uh-huh," Talon says. He has cracker crumbs on the corner of his mouth. "He's - well, he's sort of our butler."

At the computers, Owlman clears his throat.

"What?" Talon asks, looking over. "It's not like he's gonna figure it out from _that_."

Owlman turns in the chair. His hands rest on his knees, and just like Talon Jason can't see his eyes. "Talon," he says. "Why don't you work on the bars. Jason and I are going to talk."

"'Kay," Talon says. He pats Jason on the shoulder, grins at him and runs for the uneven bars. Jason watches him, dry-mouthed, until Owlman calls his name.

He walks over to him, and Owlman reaches up and pushes back his cowl, and Jason - Jason should've known he'd be good-looking. The crazy ones always are. He's handsome and dark-haired, blue-eyed with a scar underneath the left one that looks like it hurt. His hands are huge where they move to rest on his knees.

"Let's talk," he says, and Jason nods, swallows. "Tell me about yourself, Jason."

"Sure," Jason says. He slouches against the counter, tries to treat this like it's any john talking to him. "So what do you want to know?"

"Well," Owlman says. He leans back in his chair. "For starters, why I shouldn't gut you for trying to steal my wheels."

Jason digs his nails into his palms. "Maybe," he says. He licks his lips. "Maybe because your boy kinda seems to like me."

Something like a laugh escapes Owlman's mouth. "You _do_ have guts, boy," he says.

"Uh-huh," Jason agrees. "And I'd like to keep them where they are."

Thomas nods. He looks over at Talon, who's doing something complicated on the bars. "It's been just the two of us for a while now," Owlman says. "But a boy needs someone his own age."

"Right," Jason says.

"Do you have family, Jason?" Owlman asks.

"Not anymore," Jason says. "My mom, she died last year. It's just been me since then."

"Yes," Owlman says. "Richard's an orphan, too. So am I."

Jason watches him, waits. He's still not sure whether he's going to live through the next _minute_ until Owlman says, "Let me get cleaned up and I'll show you the rest of the place."

 

*

 

On their tour of the house - fucking _mansion_ \- Richard bounces on ahead of them, doing cartwheels and flips through the hallway. He's in regular clothes now, a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, his bare feet squeaking on the polished wood.

"It looks like Scooby Doo, right?" Richard asks, and Jason agrees. He keeps expecting ghosts and zombies to pop out of nowhere, the pictures in the frames to move.

When they get to another hallway, Richard opens the door to reveal a guest bedroom. The nightstand is dusty, but the sheets on the bed look clean. It's nicer than anywhere else Jason has ever lived, even when his parents were alive.

"You can stay here," Richard says. "Our room's right across the hall."

Jason looks back at him, and he kind of suspected from the way they acted with each other, but - but.

"Richard has his own room," Owlman - Thomas, he said - says. "He just forgets where it is sometimes." Richard sticks his tongue out at him and Thomas reaches over and holds it between his thumb and index finger. Richard bats his eyelashes at Thomas, and Thomas lets him go.

Thomas turns back to Jason as though nothing has happened. "You'll train with me tomorrow evening," he says. "You're free to do whatever you want during the day." He looks over at Richard. "As long as you don't set anything on fire."

" _One_ time," Richard mutters, but then he looks over at Jason and grins. Jason feels himself grinning back. They tour the rest of the house, the library full of thousands of books, the living room and the dining room, the kitchen so bright and huge that Jason's stomach rumbles at the sight of it.

"Alfred cooks for us," Richard explains, propping himself up on the counter with a jar of peanut butter and a spoon. "But we can get you something if you're hungry." He offers Jason his spoon, and Jason stares at him, licks his lips. Richard's eyes gleam like a cat in the dark and Jason's hungry for more than food.

Jason takes the spoon, scoops out the peanut butter and laps it off the spoon. Richard and Thomas both watch him like predators, until Thomas brushes his fingers through Richard's hair and says, "You should get to bed. You barely slept at all last night."

"Couldn't," Richard says. He kicks his feet against the cabinet. Thomas takes the spoon back from Jason and sets it in the sink.

"Go on," Thomas says to Richard. He stands between his legs, and even with Richard sitting on the counter Thomas is still taller than he is.

"You're not gonna tuck me in?" Richard teases, or maybe it's a tease, because he slips his arms around Thomas's neck and Thomas kisses him, open-mouthed and hungry. 

"Go on now," Thomas says. He moves out of Richard's way, and Richard jumps off the counter, winks at Jason and scampers out of the kitchen.

They both look at each other then, Jason and Thomas. "Have a seat," Thomas says. "I'll make you a sandwich."

Jason thinks about arguing, but the truth is he's fucking starving, has been since well before he stole those tires. There's more money in hustling, but -

He sits at the small table, and in a few minutes Thomas sets a sandwich down in front of him: sloppily put together, turkey and cheese and mayo, but better than Jason's hand in days. Thomas sits across from him and watches him. Jason's halfway done with his food before he speaks.

"Do you know what we do?" Thomas asks.

"Sure," Jason says, and Thomas laughs. "No," he says, "I mean do you _really_ understand what you'd be getting into by going out on the streets with us?"

Jason swallows, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before Thomas throws him a napkin. "I know you run Gotham," he says. "I know - I know you'd be rich even without the inheritance." He looks Thomas in the eye, adds, "And I know if I stuck with you, I'd never have to suck another dick that I didn't want to."

If it shocks Thomas to hear it, it doesn't show on his face. "Smart kid," Thomas says. "Can you fight?"

"Not like you can," Jason admits.

"You'll learn," Thomas says. He looks him over, studying. Jason feels a spark of heat go through him just at that. "You'll have a strong build, once we get some meat on you. Richard's fast, but he's no heavy-hitter. Not like you could be."

"The two of you..." Jason starts. 

"Yes?" Thomas asks. They stare at each other for a minute at least, and then Jason shrugs, picks up the last of his sandwich. "Nothing," he says. "Nevermind."

Thomas grunts, nods. He gets up from the table. "I'm headed back downstairs. We'll get started tomorrow."

Jason watches him go. He cleans up his plate and puts it in the rack, and makes his way to the bedroom they picked out for him. He stares at the dark room, the moon coming in through the window. He kicks his shoes off and lets out a breath. He'll never be able to sleep here.


End file.
